Monachopsis, Part I

 

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monachopsis: the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted.

I.

 

I’ve been living on the outside looking in,

Never quite feeling like I belong.

How can I feel comfortable in my own skin

When I feel like my own skin is wrong?

 

I see the world through different eyes

Than everyone else around me.

It never takes long for folks to realize

That a cloak of weirdness surrounds me.

 

It’s not that I’ve never been invited

To come in and partake of the fun.

But it’s soon obvious everyone else is united,

While I stand apart, a party of one.

 

I don’t like what they like; I do my own thing,

When I do, then the whispers begin.

I want so much to belong, but I’m left with the sting

Of playing a game I know I can’t win.

 

You see, I’ve lived so long in the fringes,

And I know they think I’m somewhat askew.

When I share my thoughts, my likes, everyone cringes,

And I know there’s just one thing I can do…